


Rose

by Hesiod



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Fluff, bethenril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3205475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesiod/pseuds/Hesiod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Athenril wanted was to give Bethany the damn rose. She runs into an array of familiar faces along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose

All Athenril wanted was to give Bethany the damn rose. How the girl couldn't be found when she seemed to be bumping into everyone else around Kirkwall was as frustrating as it was tiresome.

"What's it for?" Gamlen asks, suspiciously. He's barring the entrance to the house with an outstretched hand, as if Athenril might barge in and take whatever wasn't shit-and-rags in the first place.

"It's a rose," Athenril responds, face the statue of boredom. She twirls the thing at her hip. "It doesn't need to be for anything."

"Then why do you have to give it to Bethany?"

Athenril feels her patience thinning - not that she had a lot to begin with for a man forever on her shitlist. And it wasn't Gamlen's business what she did with the blighted rose. She has half a thought to put it through his eye. "Is she there or not?" Athenril demands.

"Not," Gamlen snorts. The door shuts in her face.

She spits out a curse and turns down the steps, heading for the Hanged Man.

* * *

"Is that for me, sweet thing? You know, you don't have to buy me flowers for a good time," Isabela drawls as soon as she enters the establishment. The pirate swings an arm around the elf's shoulders, drawing her in close.

Athenril ignores the proposition. "Do you know where Bethany is?"

"Oh, not in the mood are we? You'll come around." She winks. "The mageling is off with Hawke, I think. That man has the attention span of a mabari; he's probably dragged Bethany on some pointless quest for a stranger again. Positive waste of time," Isabela muses. Her expression is thick with disapproval. "Why do you need her?"

Athenril disentangles herself from the woman, ducking from the embrace. "No reason," she mutters.

* * *

She runs into Fenris by complete coincidence, walking through Dark Town.

"Athenril, isn't it?" he asks, allowing her to walk beside him.

"It is."

"How goes it?"

"I'm looking for Bethany; do you know where her or Hawke went?"

"Who knows what mages are up to these days. They can never be trusted, if one were to –"

Athenril becomes disinterested and walks away.

* * *

"No, I'm not sure where Bethany is," Anders answers, shuffling through his cabinets of oils and creams. He turns to look at Athenril, gaze falling to the single flower in her hand. "Is that a rose? Oh dear, I haven't seen one in a while. Did someone give that to you?"

"No."

He eyes it with a calculating look. "Are you going to need that? Rose oil has some really good anti-inflammatory properties. If I could even have just a couple petals –"

"Sorry Anders," Athenril says, suddenly feeling overprotective. Let there be another Blight before she lets Anders make a salve out of it.

* * *

"Is that for Bethany?" Varric asks, a wicked grin spreading across his features.

"What?" Athenril counters, caught off guard. She quickly recomposes her face into a scowl. How did he know?

"A thoughtful gesture. She'll like it," Varric says, giving her a knowing wink.

Athenril twirls the stem uncomfortably. "Do you know where she is?"

"Home now. I was just with Hawke; so unless they got sidetracked, they're probably back at Gamlen's."

"Right. Thanks,"

* * *

Athenril's in a lousy mood by the time she gets to Gamlen's hovel. She'd spent all day walking around Kirkwall – is this how Hawke feels, being Kirkwall's errand boy?

The moment he opens the door, Athenril nearly knocks him over. "Bethany's here, right?" she asks, brushing past him and into the house.

"What? Ah  _– oh_. Is that for her?" Hawke sputters at the unceremonious entrance. He gives a nervous laugh, brushing a dirty hand through his hair. "Maker, she's been popular today."

Athenril arches a delicate brow, but the question answers itself when she sees a big bouquet of white roses on the kitchen table. Bethany is sitting at the table beside them, penning a letter.

"Who are  _those_ from?" Athenril asks, incredulously. She wonders if it'd be rude to throw them out the window.

Bethany looks up. She blinks. "The flowers? Sebastian," she says. "I was just writing him a thank you note. Aren't they lovely?"

"Extravagant and pretentious, like the man himself," Athenril says, letting annoyance prickle her words. She looks down at the single flower in her hand, feeling embarrassingly outdone. With a quirk of her lips, she marches up to Bethany and takes her hand, pulling her from the chair. "Come with me," she says, tugging before the girl has a chance to protest.

"Uhh, Athenril – might I ask what you're doing?" Hawke questions, watching the strange scene unfold.

"You may not."

* * *

They round the side of the building, into the alley between the houses. Athenril finally releases Bethany, turning to face the small Ferelden.

"Athenril, what are you -"

The elf cuts her off with a kiss, grabbing at the girl's shoulders and pulling her close. The girl responds with a surprised squeak and by the time she's kissing back, Athenril's already pulled away.

A rose gets shoved in her hands.

"Here," Athenril says, pinking at the cheeks despite her steady tone and even composure.

"What - umm, wow," Bethany stutters, touching at the red petals. A grin nearly splits her face in half. "Thank you."

"Yeah," Athenril breathes, stealing away before the embarrassment swallows her whole.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy early Valentine's Day! Just a bit of fun.


End file.
